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A little, ugly poem of mine...

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  • A little, ugly poem of mine...

    This is a little, ugly poem I wrote just a few months ago. To tell the truth, I don't completely like it, but then again, what do I know about my own writing? Please give me your opinion (even if it is "it sucks") and please point my mistakes... there must be many, since my native language isn't english... well, here it is:

    Emptiness in the eyes,
    Cool, motionless skin…
    The lips feel so dry and the heart beats so slowly that you’d think there’s nothing in that body, but emptiness in bones and flesh.
    Yet, thoughts rage through the mind, like all life ran out of the organism and into the brain.
    Outside, the Sun observed the world, while the thoughts of what’s to come fill the youth’s mind. Thoughts of how the next night will be, of how the skin of the loved one will feel on the fingertips.
    The seconds, the minutes, the hours, ticked away…
    Outside, the pale Queen’s come out.
    Time to go…
    What to feel? What to do?
    Thoughts keep rushing in the mind while the pale Queen of Night gives the Earth a long, bored, almost absentminded glance; for she can’t touch those in the Blue Sphere’s surface, although she can almost feel how her light refreshes the world, as if the silvery light brought to it a more intense life than the other, hot, golden one.
    Yes. The cold light, warming the spirits up.
    And cold are the actions of those chained to this, the new world, a new Era in which people don’t care about others anymore.
    Yet, there’s still hope. There’s hope in the ones who still feel; and so the youth realizes while the sight focuses on the being standing there, waiting, smiling… the one, the loved one.
    Hands holding, and feelings shared by skin and sight. A new realization come to mind: there’s no love in the heart, for it is the roughest organ in the body… all gentleness is in hands.

    Well, how bad it sucks?
    Sweet moons!

  • #2
    Hi Alexa. Thank you for sharing your poem.

    First off, please don't call your creations "little, ugly." You felt it, you wrote it, therefore this is your creation and it is not ugly or little at all. People who write out what they feel and share it, their creations are important and in my opinion not ugly or little at all. Anyway!

    EVERY poem has a feeling in it. Okay, it may not rhyme, but it's your creation and you shared it. I appreciate that and thank you again.

    This is my favorite line in your poem: "there’s no love in the heart, for it is the roughest organ in the body… all gentleness is in hands."

    As far as the imagery and the poem itself, i want to know more. Tell me more of what is going on. I have my own ideas, but I'm more interested in the writers ideas of what is going on, what's happened? Where's this going?

    You've got the feeling, now take us away.


    • #3
      I like this poem the descriptions are pretty cool. Quite an original angle at poetry, which may be because your native language is not English, and it brings the poem to life I think. That is probably an advantage of writing in a language that is not native to you. Yeah, I really liked this one!


      • #4
        The ending. Oh, that ending. I like it so much. It worked as you wanted it to, I think, Alexa. Very well done! I like it a lot.

        And I agree with Poetgrrl; I've never appreciated hearing people say "This is bad poetry" because it is very personal and important to the one who wrote it. A poem either touches you or it doesn't, but no poem "sucks" as far as I'm concerned.

        I bet it sounds awesome in Spanish! :D
        "Wounds are all I'm made of. Did I hear you say that this is victory?"
        --Michael Moorcock, Veteran of the Psychic Wars


        • #5
          Re: A little, ugly poem of mine...

          Originally posted by Alexa
          A new realization come to mind: there’s no love in the heart, for it is the roughest organ in the body… all gentleness is in hands.
          I can't get over this. It's just wonderful. It says to me, "What good are all the 'kind feelings' in your heart if your hands do not follow through with your good intentions? It is not enough to claim you feel love for others in your heart if you do not show it with gentle, loving action."

          Maybe that's not what you meant by it, but the nice thing about poetry is we can each take our own meaning from it.

          Thanks for sharing this with us, Alexa.
          "Wounds are all I'm made of. Did I hear you say that this is victory?"
          --Michael Moorcock, Veteran of the Psychic Wars


          • #6
            did you write your poem in English, or first in Spanish and translated it afterwards?
            Thanks for sharing it with us.
            Google ergo sum


            • #7
              I feel you paint a very effective vignette with your poetry Alexa. I liked your choice of imagery, I think your English excellent, and if one of the chief functions of poetry is to invoke and involve the emotions of the reader yours does just that very well indeed. I liked it - a lot.


              • #8
                I reckon this is a performance poem - it wants to be read aloud - LOUD!


                • #9
                  Originally posted by Poetgrrl
                  First off, please don't call your creations "little, ugly."
                  I agree with Poetgrrl! And your poem is beautiful and unusual. There is a plenty of feeling in it. Go on to write, you have future as poet.
                  Rita Maria Felix da Silva.


                  • #10

                    The imagery and rhetoric are good. In English, this comes across as a prose poem (petit poأ¨me en prose, to echo Baudelaire). That is, it sounds like prose that uses the devices and compression of poetry. It reminds me thus of W. S. Merwin, a little. (People might find his book Houses and Travellers interesting.)

                    Could you do us the favor of rendering it in Spanish, too?



                    • #11
                      Wow! Thanks a lot!!
                      To tell the truth, I didn't even think any of you would really like it at all. I'm glad you liked it :D
                      First, well, in Spanish that kind of style is called "prosa", which is exactly the same as prose. I'm not very good at rhyme, so when I do poetry, it's usually what we call "estilo libre", "free style". Maybe it's because I don't do much poetry... usually I write narrative (I'll think about translating one of my short stories into english or even upload one of the few I've written in English... I don't know, I'm still not very confident of my writting in my second language).
                      Second, I originally wrote this poem in English (my mind tends to think in my second or third language, some times... :roll: ), but I'll translate it into Spanish for you, if you want to read it in Spanish. It should sound pretty much the same; for images, that is.
                      I tried my best to make this one very close to the reader, by avoiding any sign of the person in the poem's gender. This I tried for I think that the reader can choose if the one in the poem is male or female, and that way is easier to feel what it means.
                      About that ending, I'm very happy you liked it. It's just somethin I came to after I heard the classic line "I love you with all my heart" (in Spanish, of course). I mean, heart is just an organ, a piece of flesh (and pretty firm, even hard flesh if you ask me), and I seriously doubt there's any tenderness within it. The heart beats 24 hours a day, 7 days a week... and, as PWV said, love doesn't make that much of a difference if it's not expresed. I've always thought that a single look or a single touch can be very significative.
                      I'll try to submit the Spanish version soon, but for now, I have to go to class (yupe, I'm in Uni).
                      Thanks a lot for reading and for your great comentaries.
                      Sweet moons!


                      • #12
                        Here it is in Spanish:


                        Vacأ­o en la mirada,
                        carne fresca e inmأ³vil...
                        Los labios se sienten tan secos y el corazأ³n late tan lentamente que podrأ­a pensarse que no hay nada en ese cuerpo, sأ³lo vacأ­o en carne y huesos.
                        Sin embargo, los pensamientos corren a toda velocidad por su mente, como si la vida hubiese huido del resto del organismo para concentrarse en su cerebro.
                        Fuera, el Sol observa el mundo, mientras los pensamientos de aquello que vendrأ، llenan su mente. Pensamientos de cأ³mo serأ، la siguiente noche, de cأ³mo la piel de su ser mأ،s amado se sentirأ، en las yemas de sus dedos.
                        Transcurrieron los segundos, los minutos, las horas...
                        Fuera, la Pأ،lida Reina ha salido.
                        Hora de marchar...
                        Quأ© sentir? Quأ© hacer?
                        Los pensamientos dan tumbos en su mente mientras la Pأ،lida Reina de la Noche mira la Tierra larga, aburrida, distraأ­damente; pues ella no puede tocar a los seres en la superficie de la Esfera Azul, aunque casi puede sentir cأ³mo su luz refresca al mundo, como si la plateada luminosidad le empujase a una vida mأ،s intensa que la otra, cأ،lida y dorada.
                        Sأ­. La frأ­a luz, calentando los espأ­ritus.
                        Y frأ­os son los actos de los encadenados a أ©ste, el nuevo mundo, a una nueva Era en la cual la gente ya no se preocupa por los demأ،s.
                        Sin embargo, aأ؛n hay esperanza. Esperanza en aquellos que aun sienten; y es entonces que se da cuenta, mientras su vista enfoca al ser de pie ahأ­, esperando, sonriendo... aquella أ؛nica persona, aquel ser que ama.
                        Manos entrelazadas, y sentimientos compartidos por piel y vista. Algo nuevo surge en su mente como una verdad absoluta: no hay amor en el corazأ³n, pues أ©ste es el organo mأ،s rudo en el cuerpo... toda gentileza estأ، en las manos.
                        Sweet moons!


                        • #13

                          Post more poems of you here in this forum.
                          I know I may dare to speak for all us, when I say we have liked this poem very much.
                          So, post more.


                          • #14
                            the heart is a pretty tough organ, this is true. no wonder the Germans give it a a term "panzer herz" (armored heart) man i love that phrase!


                            • #15
                              Armored heart? Never heard the phrase before 8O
                              Sweet moons!